A Castle for a King
by AndromedaMarine
Summary: Rick Castle once again gets on Kate Beckett's nerves during a case that has way too much in common with the medieval times. Kate's got some secrets of her own...and Castle wants to find them out. Pre- to established Caskett. 13/13 COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

_Successfully Annoying a Cop Brings Great Satisfaction_

Rick Castle ran to catch up with Kate. "I wonder," he called out loudly, not caring that several New York City passersby craned their necks to watch him, "what it would be like to be a king." He felt a grin extend across his face as he watched Kate Beckett speed walk down the sidewalk.

Beckett groaned again, dodging another bike messenger, and continued on her quick pace to the crime scene. "Castle, it doesn't irk me to say I don't care."

Rick sprinted the last few feet and jumped in front of her like a little kid. "Oh, but you do care, because you have to put up with me until I feel that this next series is well-researched enough." He stopped walking backwards and she ran right into his chest.

"Castle! Move out of the way!" She sidestepped the author, but the feeling of him so close to her didn't leave. Just a few more blocks... There! In the distance she saw the yellow police tape blocking an entrance into Central Park, beyond which lay a DOA she could use as an excuse to ignore Rick.

The two ducked beneath the tape at the same instant, and Beckett let out another groan of exasperation when she saw the victim, a man who conveniently decided to die while looking like Ioan Gruffudd's body double in _King Arthur_. Quickly she added together the three things bothering her most – and all relatively had to do with the medieval times: Rick Castle, his subsequent fascination with the role of king, and the body decked out in full armour.

Yeah...Kate Beckett took the freaky cases.

"Liver temp suggests he died about six hours ago," the ME said to Beckett, glancing from the detective to the author. "And I'm fairly certain the sword severed the spinal column, causing instant death. But I'll have to do a full autopsy to know for sure."

Kate checked her watch: seven in the morning. She examined the very real, very sharp Excalibur replica jutting from the "knight's" body. "So we're looking for the owner of Excalibur here who had an issue with Lancelot around one this morning," she said evenly, not even daring to look over at Castle.

"Lancelot? You're really going to just call him that without knowing his name?" Castle commented, circling the body like a vulture, though not with the same intentions.

Beckett couldn't help but stare at him. "Seems fitting considering how much he looks like Lancelot."

Castle grudgingly fell silent, still inspecting the body. "What do you think of a king called Castle?" he asked Kate absently, though he glanced up to watch her reaction. "It'd be sort of ironic, right? King Castle's castle..." he quieted and stepped away from the body as the coroners began to move it.

"Careful with that sword," Kate ordered. "Castle, do I have to tell you again? I don't care. Let's figure out who had a swordfight with Lancelot and why."

Rick's face lit up. "Ha! That means you _do_ care. You said it twice, so it must be important..." he trailed off and watched as Kate turned from him and began questioning the couple who found the "knight." He liked watching her work – exactly what he wanted for the Nikki Heat series. Kate Beckett was a good partner.

Annoying Kate seemed to be a specialty with bestselling author Richard Castle. As they walked back down the sidewalk to the NYPD he wondered how long he could keep asking Beckett what she thought of a Castle for a king.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

_When the Irony Drives People Mad_

"What do we know about our Lancelot?" Kate asked Esposito, rubbing circles on her temples to dispel the tension left over from Castle. "Fingerprints, DNA, rap sheets, give me _something_ to go on..." She sat at her desk, having banished Rick to the break room as to not bother her further (though his mere presence in the precinct building managed to annoy her anyway). Castle materialized out of nowhere, causing the detective to leap from her seat and glare intensely in the author's direction. "Castle! I told you to stay in the break room!"

He grinned his self-important grin. "Since when do I ever follow your orders?" he countered. "And besides, I can't do research without studying you and your habits."

Kate managed to not let out a hiss of exasperation. She resisted the urge to smack him upside his ego-inflated head, though calmed significantly when Kevin Ryan handed her a file folder. "Fingerprints came back as twenty one year old Jackson Mençois, a French-English citizen from Somerset, England, with a student visa to study at the New York City University."

"If that's the case then why did he show up in the system?" Castle cut in.

Ryan glanced from the author to his boss. "He was arrested for indecent exposure last week, but bailed out. His hearing was supposed to be tomorrow." He flopped into the chair at his desk. "The report says Mençois had a BAC level of 0.1 and flashed at least four couples in the middle of Time's Square."

Esposito appeared behind Ryan. "Guess what he was studying at NYCU," he asked Kate with a Castle-like grin. "Betcha can't guess..."

"Esposito, I'm not in the mood for guessing when you can just tell me. Or unless Castle wants to try his psychic author skills to guess _for_ me." She opened the file and began to read, desperately trying to ignore Richard Castle.

Javier turned to Rick. "You want to guess since Beckett's being a pain?"

Castle grinned again. He lifted his hands and began to wave them around as he began to speak. "Okay... So Jackson Mençois is found dead in Central Park wearing a suit of armour and shish kabob'd on a replica of Excalibur. He's a French-_English_ citizen – oh this makes _such_ a good story – which means he's got a good grasp on the legend of King Arthur, considering he lived in the same-ish area. Am I right so far?" He didn't wait for an answer but kept plowing through his theory. "Okay – because of the medieval dress-up I'm guessing he's not just from Somerset, but actually lived and grew up in Glastonbury, the place where King Arthur and Queen Guinevere are rumoured to be buried."

Esposito's mouth hung open and Ryan just stared. Kate had stopped rubbing her temples and her eyes were fixed on the author.

Though perhaps not intentionally encouraged, he continued. "Because he decided to die while looking like _Lancelot_, my expert and very professional _hypothesis_ and answer to your question is that Jackson Mençois majored in Mythology and British literature." Castle's smile was now wider than ever and Beckett and her team simply stared at him. "Well...am I right?"

Javier snapped out of his frozen state and glanced down at the little piece of paper in his hand. "Uh...yeah...Mythology and British lit."

Ryan stared at Castle. "How did you _do_ that?" he asked, leaning forward until he almost fell over.

"Duh," Castle said, pointing both of his index fingers at himself. "I'm a psychic author, just like Kate said."

"Don't call me Kate, Castle. It's Beckett to you."

"Oh," Rick said sweetly, sitting in the chair across from Kate's desk. "You just like it when I say your name and you're too embarrassed to admit it." He flashed puppy-dog eyes at her, _mocking_ her.

Kate would never, ever, let him know he was right.

Dead right.

Maybe Castle would make a good king...


	3. Chapter 3

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

_He's Fortunately Not as Psychic as Patrick Jane_

Castle poked his head into the break room, effectively scaring the daylights out of Kate. He chuckled as he studied her and her now latte-stained white shirt, a drink now available to the precinct due to Rick Castle's extreme distaste for pure New York coffee. "Got a minute?" he asked, whipping out his tiny notepad. "I need to ask you a few questions of my own..." he grinned evilly at her.

"Castle, I don't know what makes you think you have the right to bother the hell out of me, but _that_ was uncalled for." She gestured to her front, and the ugly brownish stain now seeping downwards. Castle made sure to stare at it very obviously. She snapped her fingers in his face. "No, I don't have a minute, because I actually have _work_ to do – meaning finding Jackson Mençois's killer." She pushed (rather, shoved) past the man so clearly starved of attention, and stalked back to her desk, pulling out a spare shirt from a drawer.

"You keep changes of clothes at work?" Castle inquired devilishly, his pen practically flying across his notepad. "Hmm... Nikki Heat should have changes of clothes at work... though not as _conservative_ as that..." he muttered to himself, though loudly enough that Kate could hear him. He looked up just in time to see a volley of pens flying in the direction of his face. "Hey!" he yelped, only dodging the last four pens or so. "Those things hurt!"

Kate returned the evil grin. "So stop being a wise-ass."

"Never going to happen, _Kate_."

She stepped towards him menacingly. "Do you really _want_ to die?" she inquired, though the coffee stain detracted from the scariness of her pose. "I told you to call me Beckett." She seized the spare shirt from her desktop and walked as fast as possible to the women's bathroom to avoid Castle. "If you set one foot in here I will break your nose," she warned when Castle followed her steps.

"Ooh, the threats again..." he trailed off, smiling at the detective. "I'm a murder mystery romance author, Detective. Not the disgusting things you refer to as sex predators."

She didn't answer him, but proceeded to change her shirt in the solitude of a bathroom stall. Fortunately he's not as psychic as Patrick Jane, because if he was she'd be in a pile – no, a _mountain_ of embarrassment... The threats were really a defense mechanism to keep Richard Castle from knowing she really did like having him shadow her (despite how much he got on her nerves) and his murder mystery (minus the romance) author skills helped more than she would actually like to admit. Besides, if she let herself be riled by Castle, Esposito and Ryan were effectively entertained for a day (and entertainment certainly won out over a dreary, boring day at the ninth precinct of the New York Police Department.)

Kate breezed out of the bathroom and ran right into Rick's chest. Again. "Ugh! Don't you have somewhere else to be?" she demanded, pushing him away and returning to her desk.

"I like it here," he replied, but much to her surprise he wandered into the break room without another word. Her hopes of solitude came crashing to the floor when Rick Castle returned not five minutes later with two blessedly large mugs full of latte. He set one down in front of her. "Don't spill this one on your shirt. It'd be a shame for a beautiful woman such as yourself to spend all day in a coffee-soaked shirt," he said quietly, with a small smile on his features. Kate wondered why he was being so nice all of a sudden.

"No wise-ass remarks anymore? What happened?"

"I like it when my muse – I'm sorry, _inspiration_ – is in a good mood. I can't base Nikki Heat off a detective who hates me."

Kate immediately thought back to his book reading. "Change the name, Castle."

He shook his head as defiantly as he did at the bookstore. "Name stays. So do I."

They sat in silence, sipping the coffee, until Esposito and Ryan walked back into the room. "Do you hear something, Ryan?" Esposito teasingly asked.

"I do," Ryan replied, grinning. "It sounds like...good lord! It's _silence_! Our good friends are _failing_ to argue!"

Esposito fell into the chair at his desk and swiveled to face Castle and Beckett. "Okay, so we went up to the NYCU and asked Mençois's friends some questions about him," he began, taking out his note ledger. "Two say they were with him around ten but left for home at eleven. No mention of a Lancelot costume from either."

"How did they react to hearing news of his death?" Castle asked before Kate even had a chance to open her mouth and ask the same question. Maybe he was psychic...

"Genuinely shocked," Ryan said. He looked at his notes. "One – Merrell Cavendish – confirmed that Mençois grew up in Glastonbury and had sort of an obsession with the legend of King Arthur. The other, Christoph Belpino, said our vic wanted to disprove the idea of it being a legend."

"Anyone have a beef with him?" said Castle.

"Stop asking questions before I do!" Kate demanded, glaring at him.

Ryan smirked at the exchange, and shared a glance with Esposito. "One Erica Kingsley. Ex-girlfriend by the looks of it, though she's not shown up for classes for about a day now."

Kate groaned. Castle. Kingsley. _Lancelot_. Glastonbury? King _Arthur_? An _Excalibur_ replica? What was New York coming to?

Detective Kate Beckett thanked God that Richard Castle was not as psychic as Patrick Jane.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

_A Kiss on the Cheek Doesn't Mean He Loves You_

If Richard Castle wasn't _Richard Castle_ she'd have made him sit in the backseat. But, purely because he _was_ Richard Castle, Kate grudgingly let him slip through the passenger side door and settle back. "Let me make this clear, Castle. You move when I tell you to move. You stay when I tell you to stay. Got it?" His impish smile didn't disappear or even twitch. She groaned. "God...it's like netting smoke," she grumbled. "Why do I even bother? You don't listen to me..."

"I listen to you," he protested. "How else would I characterize Nikki Heat without knowing how you do things or what you say?"

Kate gritted her teeth. "You could figure it out, Mr. Psychic Author. It seemed to work for the last few series." She didn't want to give in to Rick's incessantly childish behaviour, but if it's what Montgomery wanted then she had to deal with it.

"So where are we going, _Detective_ _Beckett_?" He asked, emphasizing her name to make a point of mockery.

She turned the ignition and felt the engine hum to life. "To go find out where Erica Kingsley is and talk to Merrell Cavendish and Christoph Belpino again, because – "

"You like investigating things for yourself," Castle finished, positively pleased with himself. "See? I already know you better than you think."

Kate's stomach turned over. She really, really hoped he was bluffing. "Really? Then what's my favourite colour?" She pulled out into traffic, and began navigating their way up to the New York City University.

He stared at her face, effectively making her blush a teensy bit. "You don't act like a pink kind of girl – I'm sorry, _woman_ – so pink's out." He desperately wanted to comment on the pinkness of her cheeks, but he remembered the threat to break both his legs _and_ his nose, and he was pretty sure Kate would take any chance she could to disable him, so he refrained. Castle continued to study her. "You like blue, but not enough to always have a bit of it somewhere on you. Strangely enough you remind me of _Gone with the Wind_'s Scarlett O'Hara, and considering the frequency with which you wear that red scarf and always manage to have some red on you, I'd say your favourite color is a toss-up between plain old red and a vivaciously succulent scarlet." He pursed his lips and continued to stare at her. "Well?"

Kate couldn't believe he'd done it again. Managed to surprise the hell out of her – first with Jackson Mençois, then with her favourite colour... She sighed. "Yes. Scarlet is my favourite colour."

Castle punched the air. "All right! See? I told you I know more than you think." He pulled out the small notepad again. "What's your favourite holiday?" he asked pointedly.

"Castle, we're on our way to a college to investigate a murder. Why do you want to ask me questions about, well, me?"

"Research," he replied, obviously bored with Kate's refusal to cooperate. "I could..."

"What, Castle?" She shot him a dagger-filled glare. "What could you do? Need I remind you I have a gun?"

Castle shook his head like a five year old. "That reminds me – why can't I have a gun? I should be armed when we go after people..."

"Only cops dedicated to the cause get government-issue firearms, Castle. Since you're neither dedicated to catching criminals nor a cop, you're not allowed a gun. Unless you have one of your own and a right-to-carry permit. But even then I wouldn't let you use it."

"It wouldn't be up to you, though," Castle rebuked. "Montgomery's the one who decides things. And don't forget I have the commissioner on speed dial. Number eleven, I think..." He pulled out his cell to check the speed dial. "Yep, it's number eleven. I could just call him now...and ask..." He couldn't help but flash another evil grin.

Kate set her jaw and watched the road, taking breaks to glare at him. She didn't know how much longer she could hold up the façade of hating him (at the moment the arrogance and obtuseness were down to a dull throb), considering Rick's – no, _Castle's_ – psychic author skills... "Christmas," she said quietly, giving in.

"What about it?" Castle looked up from his notes, and then understood. "Ah...who doesn't like getting presents?" When he saw he hit no nerve of any kind, not even the one indicating she was annoyed with him, he slumped back. "Something bothering you?"

"Besides your incessant pestering? No, nothing at all," she retorted icily, though immediately regretted it when she realized what sincerity had been in his words. He wanted to know what was on her mind. Ha. Not in a million years would she tell him...

Castle remained silent, knowing it was uncharacteristic of him to do so, and quietly jotted down notes about his inspiration. His _muse_.

Kate pulled up to the NYCU campus Student Union building and didn't wait for Castle to catch up with her as she walked into the complex. Castle ran to match her gait, still quiet like a piece of tape stuck over his mouth. How Kate wished that were true...

She stopped at the information desk and held up her badge. "Detective Kate Beckett. We'd" – she gestured vaguely to Castle – "like to know which dormitory or sorority house Erica Kingsley lives in." The girl at the desk, who couldn't possibly be over twenty-four, stood wide eyed until Kate asked again. "Erica Kingsley – which dorm?" The girl snapped out of her trance – Kate realized the student had been peering _over_ her shoulder at the grinning author. Bestselling author. The girl kept sending glances up in Castle's direction until Kate rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, it's him," she reassured the woman. "Richard Castle, this is...?"

"Emilie," she replied quickly and eagerly. "Emilie Watts."

"Emilie Watts, this is Richard Castle. Now can you get back to telling me where Erica Kingsley lives?" Kate stared expectantly at Miss Watts.

Emilie returned to the computer and began tapping away. "Erica Kingsley... You mean Erica Kingsley-Mençois? Greek row, Kappa Alpha Theta chapter," she said cheerily. "Can I help you with anything else?"

"Ex-girlfriend, my perfect ass," Castle said to Kate. "They were _married_?"

"Erica and Warren, yes," Emilie Watts said. "Has something happened I should know about?"

Kate stared at Emilie. "Warren Mençois? Any relation to Jackson Mençois?"

The girl nodded vehemently. "Oh, yes, of course they're related! They're the British brothers – everyone knows that."

Castle turned to the detective. "Any reason why Esposito and Ryan didn't figure that one out?"

Kate shook her head. "Didn't dig deep enough. Or maybe they didn't ask enough questions. Anyway, I like to – "

"Investigate things for yourself," Castle finished for her in a hurry. "Well, aren't we going to go talk to Erica Kingsley-Mençois, then?" He gestured to the door, but as Kate walked away he leaned over the desk towards Emilie. "Thank you for all your help," he said, shining his thousand watt smile at Emilie. Then he proceeded to kiss her cheek just for the fun of it and walk away with a smirk on his face.

Kate watched from the door. "You know, you shouldn't get her excited like that. You're what, twice her age?"

He feigned hurt. "You're calling me fifty?"

"Are you?" she asked, amused.

"I'm not a day over thirty six," he insisted, though Kate suspected he was lying. "Besides, do I have the _body_ of a man who's _fifty_?"

Kate chose not to answer him. She thought back to when he had kissed _her_ cheek, and scolded herself repeatedly with the reminder: a kiss on the cheek doesn't mean he loves you.

_Though,_ she secretly thought, _I wish it did_.


	5. Chapter 5

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

_If He let Her do All the Talking He Wouldn't be Richard Castle_

"Did you know he had a brother?" Castle demanded. "I didn't know he had a brother..."

"Castle, shut up! Neither of us knew. Now just get in the damn car and be quiet until we reach Greek row. What happened to your inexplicable silence ten minutes ago?" Kate's tone equaled Castle's volume.

He complied and slid back into the passenger seat, but only managed to remain quiet for another forty three seconds. "I mean, there was no suggestion of a brother, and if there was we'd know that this Erica chick was married to him, so – ooh!" Castle gasped, his eyes wide with excitement. "What if the friends did it?" he asked Kate, leaning slightly over the centre console towards the detective.

"Did you just say 'chick'?" she asked him, glancing over at his significantly closer form. She returned an irked gaze to the campus roads, trying to navigate the maze of streets and college students. "Castle, we're going to investigate this without making ill-based assumptions. Got it?"

"What's wrong with me saying 'chick'?" He asked unabashedly. "I haven't ballooned into an old geezer, have I?" He hurriedly flipped the visor mirror open and checked his features and hair. "Whew – for a moment there I thought I turned into my mother's evil clone...male, of course..." he poked the fleshy part of his cheek. "Good thing I haven't..."

Kate couldn't help but laugh at him. She knew it only encouraged the debatably pompous author, but she laughed anyway. "Okay, I admit that was a _little_ funny," she said, pulling up in front of the chapter. "But back to business now. No kissing their cheeks if they recognize you and please, _please_, let me do all the talking." She did a double take and stared at him. "Why did I even ask? You're not going to follow my orders... But refrain from the kissing."

He mocked her (yet again) with an exaggerated military salute. "I'll only give 'em a peck on the cheek if they ask me to sign a copy of _Storm Fall_," he compromised. "Or any of my books, really, I'm not picky."

"What if they all ask?"

Castle grinned like a child presented with chocolate ice cream and a bowl of Halloween candy at the same time. "Then they all get a kiss from Richard Castle."

"I should've known..." Kate muttered, walking up the marble steps to the chapter. She walked right in, bracing herself for the squeal of diehard Castle fans. It didn't come. She took a look around and saw an impossibly thin college girl. "Hey," she called out, and the girl faced her.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a sickly sweet voice.

"Detective Kate Beckett. We'd" – she vaguely gestured to Castle again – "like to speak with Erica Kingsley-Mençois." The girl went to the staircase and was about to hit an intercom button when Kate stopped her. "No, just tell us what room."

She glared at them. "Can I see some ID?" she demanded more than asked, suddenly suspicious of Beckett and Castle. Kate held out her badge. "What about you?" the girl asked Castle, peering around Beckett.

"Who, me?" Castle asked dumbly. He let the girl study his face for a few moments, and when it didn't click he extended his hand. "I'm Richard Castle – not with the NYPD, I just..." he glanced at Beckett. "What do I actually do with you?"

Kate snorted, tried not to laugh, and rolled her eyes.

"Richard Castle?" the girl repeated. Her eyes then grew wide. "_The_ Richard Castle?" she squealed.

Kate grimaced, flapping her hand in the girl's face. "Hey - Erica Kingsley-Mençois. Tell me what her room number is."

"Omigod – Erica's in 204 – Mr. Castle, will you sign _Storm Fall_ for me? My friends would be so jealous to know I've met you!"

Castle smirked at Kate as she ascended the steps to speak with the girlfriend – ahem – _wife_. She glanced down just in time to see Castle plant a chaste kiss on the girl's cheek, and how the girl froze with a huge smile on her face. Castle ran to catch up with her.

"Do you enjoy making women fall madly in love with you only to leave them a second later to research yours truly?" Kate asked as they ascended the steps together. She tried not to look at him for fear of bursting into laughter. "Or is it that you never have enough attention?"

Castle pretended to think. "Both. I have fun following you around."

"Well, _that_ didn't sound stalker-ish at all," Kate said sarcastically. "Two-oh-four..." she muttered, looking from room to room. She stopped suddenly, placing a hand over the holster at her side.

"See, this is the moment where I'm thinking I really want a gun," Castle whispered harshly, standing behind her.

Kate knocked on the door. "Erica Kingsley? NYPD – we'd like to talk with you." Automatically she shushed Castle before he really had a chance to say anything. "Erica?"

The door opened as far as the chain would allow. "Yes?" the girl asked, half her face obscured by the door.

"May we come in?" Castle asked and Kate shot him a warning glare. Kate took her hand away from the holster, confident there was no threat of Erica running.

The girl nodded. "Sure." She closed the door, slid back the chain, and swung it back open to allow the two to enter the dorm. Castle and Kate stepped into a suite-like room, complete with a micro-suede couch and oven. "You wanted to ask some questions? What about?"

Kate noticed the girl had a slight British accent, and attributed it to her marriage to Warren Mençois. "I'm Detective Kate Beckett with the NYPD, and this is Richard Castle. We have some questions about Jackson Mençois. I understand you are married to his brother?"

Erica nodded. "Yeah, I'm Warren's wife. What does Jackson have to do with that?"

"When did you last speak with your brother-in-law?" Castle asked, earning another exasperated stare from Kate.

"Last night," Erica answered warily, glancing between the cop and the author. "Has something happened I should know about?" she asked.

"What time last night?" asked Beckett, ignoring Erica's question.

Erica paused. "Around midnight," she said. "I bumped into him as I was leaving the rec centre. Warren was with me."

"Notice she's already made an alibi," Castle whispered softly to Kate as he walked behind her towards the kitchen.

Kate longed to slap him, but she focused on Erica. "Where were you at one this morning?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Retching in the bathroom."

"And that's why you didn't show up for classes today?"

Erica nodded.

Castle looked the girl up and down, studying little things. After a few moments, he spoke. "Are you pregnant?"

Warren's wife stared at him. "How did you know?"

"The bags beneath your eyes and the fact you were retching this morning yet you don't exhibit symptoms of a common cold or flu. You're married, so it's a logical conclusion. Plus I saw the kitchen counter is covered with the strangest combination of strawberries, peanut butter, and Doritos. Only pregnancy can cause cravings like that," Castle rattled off.

Kate stared at him too.

"Who's the father?" Castle asked as plainly and as obnoxiously as he usually did.

"Warren is!" Erica answered a little too quickly. "I mean, who else would it be besides my _husband_?"

Castle shrugged. "Jackson, maybe?"

Erica made a gagging noise. "That's gross. And besides, with Jackson's hearing tomorrow there's no way."

Kate stepped forward. "I'm sorry, but he isn't having a hearing at all. He was found in Central Park at seven this morning wearing a suit of armor and pierced through with a sword."

Erica lurched forward a little. "Jackson's dead?" she asked in a frightened whisper.

"Yes."

"And you're accusing _me_?" A tear leaked out onto her cheek.

"Well, did you kill him?" Castle asked abrasively.

Erica shook her head vehemently. "No. But I know who would want to."


	6. Chapter 6

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

_Two Castles are Not Better than One – If Anything, Two are Worse_

"Who would want to kill Jackson?" Kate asked, holding a finger up to silence Castle, who stood beside her.

Erica gave a short, sad laugh. "Plenty did. He and Warren were the British brothers – the geniuses taking storm of the University. The jocks especially had a hard time dealing with Jackson and Warren overtaking them with good grades."

"What about Jackson's obsession with proving the legend of King Arthur?" Kate said, stealing a covert glance over at her partner – err, author... what did he exactly do? Shadow...

Erica stared at the two. "What about it? He just believed that the guy really existed. Not many believed _him_, though. Warren always told him it wasn't a career path he should take. Pissed the hell out of Jackson."

"Why didn't Warren support his brother?" Castle asked. "Surely being brothers and all they would be close."

"Yeah, you'd think," Erica agreed. "Especially since they can switch places without anyone knowing... except me, of course."

Kate snapped her gaze from wandering the room to the girl. "What do you mean 'they can switch places'?"

Erica turned away from the detective and snatched up a frame whose back faced the three. "How much do you really know about my husband and brother-in-law?" she asked, clutching the picture frame to her chest.

"We're trying to find out as much as we can, Erica," Kate said.

Erica held out the frame. "They were twins. The ring Warren wears is the only thing that distinguishes him from Jackson."

Castle's eyes widened and he cut in. "So, theoretically, if Jackson wore Warren's wedding ring you wouldn't know if it was Warren or Jackson in bed with you?"

"Castle," Kate warned, throwing him a look that had the ability to stop a cheetah in its tracks. Unfortunately Castle wasn't a cheetah, and had a far thicker skull than any of the animal kingdom, except perhaps elephants. But Kate's thoughts got off track.

Erica hiccupped. "Theoretically, yes, but Warren wouldn't do that to me. We've been married for three years now...and this is the first child we've been able to conceive in all that time," she said softly. "He knew I didn't like Jackson at all – he partied too hard and drank too much...brought home too many women."

"Warren and Jackson lived together? In which fraternity?" Kate asked, her hands shoved deep in the pockets of her coat so she wouldn't spontaneously strangle Castle.

"Oh no, they live off campus, in a flat three blocks from the college gates." Kate saw that the woman twisted her wedding ring almost habitually.

Castle wore his serious expression. "Then why didn't you live with your husband?"

"This is an honors sorority," she explained, one hand hovering over her belly. "Meaning all classes are held here. It's easier to live where the classes are taught than not. Besides, what wife wants to live in a flat frequented by boozers and prostitutes?" She walked away from them and collapsed onto the sofa.

"Could we have Warren's address, please?" Castle asked with his best author smile. He handed Erica his notepad (incidentally, the one in which he took notes on Kate) and let her scribble down an address. "Thank you, Mrs. Mençois," he said graciously, giving Kate a look saying 'I can do this just as well as you.' Kate scowled at him from behind Erica.

Erica shook her head and sniffed again. "Please just call me Erica. Did you have any more questions about Warren or Jackson?"

Kate walked to Castle's side, seized his wrist and twisted it inconspicuously behind his back, gave Erica a smile, said, "No, thank you for your time," and frog marched the author from the room. She released him a few feet down the corridor from suite 204. "Have you any sense at all, Castle? Oh, why do I bother? You're such a do-it-yourself kind of guy... Don't care for the victim's feelings or aren't even courteous enough to ask her _gently_ about the twin brothers switching places..." She stalked away from him, her metaphorical feathers successfully ruffled.

Castle wrung his wrist with a grimace on his face. "You had to twist my right one, didn't you? Did I mention I have a book signing later tonight? Ow..."

Kate turned on him. "Well, you should've thought of your precious writing hand before you ignored my warnings to let _me_ do all the talking!" She whirled around and clomped down the staircase. "I can't believe your obnoxiousness..."

Rick caught up with her. "So, whadda ya think of me having a twin? Not necessarily an _evil_ one, but just a twin in general...?"

Kate waited until they were through the main floor and out the door to answer him. "Richard Castle, if there were two of you I'd throw one of you from the back of a moving vehicle that's going ninety miles an hour across the Florida Keys Bridge, and then the other one I'd threaten within an inch of his life to make sure he kept his unbelievably large trap shut."

"Ooh, harsh," Castle said, making a tsking noise at her. "Would you really throw me out of a car into the ocean?"

The detective knew if she answered honestly Castle would tease her for the rest of their partnership. "If that's what it takes to get rid of one of you? Yes. I would." Despite her reasons to keep quiet about the _truth_ she didn't like lying to him. Or anyone. But especially someone who thought of her as his inspiration. As his _muse_.

Castle studied her. "I think you're _hiding_ something, Detective... Shall I just root it out myself? Or will you be cooperative and give a man what he wants?" Kate had the overwhelming urge to slam on the brakes, even though they were halfway through a green light. "Hey, aren't we going to talk with Warren Mençois?"

"No. We're going to fill Esposito and Ryan in on what we've learned," she said through clenched teeth.

"I've touched a nerve..." Castle said, obviously pleased with himself. "I think you're hiding something..." he said in a singsong voice, earning a very painful punch in the arm. "Hey! First you kill my wrist and now I have a dead arm! What is it with you making my life hell?"

She smiled with a combination of sweetness and pure evil. "It's only because you made my life hell." She took a sharp turn and succeeded in making Castle press against the walls for dear life. "I'm just returning the favor."

"I didn't know my muse – " he dodged (or, at least, _tried_ to dodge) another ferocious punch. "I'm sorry, _inspiration_, could be so brutal..." he trailed off and, to Kate's relief, didn't speak again until they reached the precinct.

Kate wondered when the time would come for her to be nice to her favorite author. But then again, she liked arguing with him. It was fun.


	7. Chapter 7

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

_He Invariably Fails When Her Own Little World Threatens to Implode_

Rick Castle knew Kate had a few...secrets... He wanted to get inside her head, though after remembering the pain his wrist and nose went through after repeatedly addressing Kate as his muse, he reconsidered. Getting inside her head would be a feat of which he was certainly incapable, though with his unique psychic author skills his self confidence lazed significantly higher on the metaphorical bar. So as he sat quiet and seemingly contrite (though Kate knew better) Rick Castle came to his final conclusion. He'd have to take it into his own hands if he really wanted to dig into Kate Beckett's past. And present.

Positively sure that both Esposito and Ryan would guffaw at him then scurry to tell Kate his plan, he left the two out of his small, relatively pathetic, loop. Hacking Kate's computer was one thing, but getting the dynamic duo to hack it for him? Psh. Impossible. He already knew plenty about her (after observing her habits and routines much in a mentalist-like manner) and felt determined to get to the bottom of the ironic abyss.

He followed Kate into the precinct, his unbelievably large trap still surprisingly shut, and sat in his usual chair across from Kate's desk, massaging his wrist. She stared at him. "Castle, what are you doing?"

"Sitting," he replied smartly. "Though Captain Obvious isn't the right look for me. What do you think?"

Kate resisted throwing up her hands in frustration. "I think you're a child in a cu - an adult body." She thankfully caught herself before calling him 'cute.'

Unfortunately for the detective, her skills were beginning to rub off on the author. "Men don't like being called 'cute,' _Kate_," he said, satisfied to have earned the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of using her first name without suffering immediate pain to the shoulder, nose, wrist, or body in general. He grinned up at her, knowing full well she had the lower hand and just the higher ground. "It's not even in our vocabulary. But I do appreciate the thought."

The detective felt steam rising to her ears, and felt sure that if she didn't make a run for the break room her head would blow off. She stomped into the room and bumped straight into Esposito. She blocked their way, staring at them both with her I-can-stop-a-cheetah-in-its-tracks glare. "Did either of you think to look at familial connections before the friends?" she hissed. "Mençois had a twin brother, who's _married_ to Erica Kingsley, you id – " she stopped herself from saying 'idiots.' She seethed and glanced at the ceiling before directing her fiery line of sight to the two detectives. "Go talk to the brother," she finished lamely, though the fire still burned in her eyes. "Castle has the address."

Esposito and Ryan shared a snort and a smirk as they filed out past their friend and coworker to retrieve Warren's address from the author. "What's wrong with her?" Esposito asked Castle. "She looks ready to explode..."

"I just asked a few of my own questions," Castle said with an innocent expression plastered across his face. After seeing they didn't exactly believe him, he added, "And wouldn't shut up in the car, but what's so surprising about that? She knows I'm a wise-ass..."

Ryan suppressed a bout of laughter. "Just give up the address and we'll get out of your hair...and hers..."

Castle ripped out the sheet from his notepad and handed it to the detective. "It's a flat three blocks from NYCU. Jackson and Warren lived together." Esposito and Ryan left, and after several minutes of silence Castle meandered to the break room intent on finding both a pleasant cup of coffee and a new way to bother Kate. He didn't expect to see her slouched over a table near the back of the room, a steaming mug of latte between her limp hands, and one leg bouncing up and down off the ball of her foot. "Beckett?" he asked softly, slightly worried about her, and finally using the name she'd insisted upon since their initial partnership. "What happened?"

Kate glared at him, though part of its effect died with the evidence of recently shed tears. She wiped the skin below her eyes hastily, turning her gaze back to the tabletop and the mug. "Go away, Castle," she hissed between clenched teeth.

Intent on disobeying her orders for the millionth time that day, he pulled out a chair opposite her and plopped himself down. "No. I can clearly see something's bothering you, and you can't make me go away before telling me."

She again heard the sincerity in his voice, and tried not to push him away. "I don't want to talk about it," she tried, "with you least of all."

Castle wore an expression of hurt, one only partially fabricated. He really did want to listen to her. "Please? I'm not as insensitive as I seem," he said. "Besides, it's almost six. Work's almost over anyway." Kate stood abruptly, and walked as fast as she could away from Castle. He stumbled to catch up, but stopped when he saw her packing up her things with fifteen minutes still left on the workday clock. "Kate," he said in a voice he hadn't used for a very long time.

She stopped in her tracks, frozen by his caring tone. She didn't face him.

"I...I just want to...be there..." Castle said detachedly, fumbling with his arms to formulate the right gesture.

Kate kept her head facing the door leading to freedom. "I appreciate the thought," she reciprocated, wiped her eyes again, and left the precinct with Richard Castle standing alone in the middle of the bullpen floor.

His hands fell limply to his sides. Now plainly obvious to himself, he realized he cared for Kate in a way he hadn't cared for his ex-wives. Thinking it too melodramatic to chase after her down the New York sidewalks, seize her wrist and swing her around into a warm and comforting embrace (or possibly kiss, though that was pushing things), Castle slid into the seat in front of Kate's computer, of which she'd conveniently forgotten to log off.

Castle accessed the NYPD employee profiles, typed in Kate's name, and watched as the magic technology spat out information onto the screen. Five minutes later he felt worse than when the idea had popped into his head to begin with. He now knew things he never was supposed to know: the deaths of Kate's twin brothers in a motorcycle racing accident, her mother's continual state of depression, and her father's being the only statue in her childhood of despair; that is, the venerable and legendary Chief Bud Beckett of the New York Police Department. He exited it as quickly as his fingers could type, slumped back in the chair and rubbed his stubbly chin too hard.

Montgomery spoke from behind him. "I should revoke your right to shadow Detective Beckett for illegally accessing government files," he said evenly, "but considering the scene I watched play out a few moments ago, you've got yourself a free pass, Mr. Castle."

The author sat frozen in the chair. He swiveled around. "I'm sorry, sir," he said meekly, sincere in his apology.

Montgomery saw the seriousness. "Make sure it doesn't happen again. I like having you work...okay, shadow here. You and Detective Beckett make a nice team. Just try not to screw it up. And if you want to avoid any serious injuries tomorrow I suggest you keep your distance and your mouth zipped securely shut. That is, until she decides to let you in."

Castle nodded at the man, collected his coat, and left the precinct. He needed to act more appropriate, he thought. More like a king.

He failed to be heard when Kate's little world threatened to implode.


	8. Chapter 8

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

_Honesty Works Wonders if He isn't an Idiot_

Kate made it home without completely falling apart, and Castle helped very little with her mood. If discussing her mother's death five years ago didn't make it onto the list of things to chat about over evening drinks with Castle, then her father's recent passing was certainly off the list. Personal lives were exactly that – personal. She knew he only wanted to help, and he really did care about her – at least, in the professional sense. He teased only because he enjoyed making her life utterly miserable, and her brilliant idea to make him lose all coherent thought by showing up at his reading in that short (maybe too short) dress only proved how speechless she could make him. That, in tandem, told her how much he thought (or couldn't think at all, considering he'd stopped reading to stare at her) of her personally. After all, his eyes lingered on her legs for a few more seconds than appropriate. Meeting his gaze after lifted her confidence. Bad idea, she thought now. Bad idea.

Kate took the watch off her wrist, placing it delicately in her jewelry box, then lifted her mother's wedding ring from around her neck and laid it beside the watch. Two people now gone represented by two ordinary items. She didn't want to think of Castle, not after leaving him so hurriedly in the office, or the case for that matter, but as soon as she threw a frozen dinner into the microwave his face popped into her head.

She groaned, knowing the relatively unwelcome shadow may end up knocking on her door. When seven rolled around and still no sound of knuckles on door met her ears she relaxed onto the couch with a mug of hot tea and the TV remote. Thirty minutes of some cop drama that barely held her interest went by before she heard Castle's recognizable banging on her door. Kate uttered a hiss of exasperation she made sure could be heard through the walls. She wrenched the door open, not wanting to see Rick's face but having to, and glared at him with her signature I-can-stop-a-cheetah-in-its-tracks glare. "What do you want?" she shot at him.

It took her several moments of glaring at his face to realize his grin hadn't made an appearance and utmost sincerity and seriousness lurked in his eyes. He'd ignored Montgomery's advice. "I...I'm sorry," he said quietly.

The look on his face made her want to laugh, but she couldn't. Not now. "Accepted," she said angrily, immediately regretting her tone. "Come in?"

More of a request than a question, Castle noted, stepping past her into the apartment. Castle didn't look comfortable as usual, wringing his hands unconsciously and his eyes darted around the room, learning about her personal space. He shouldn't have come, he thought. Bad idea, just like Kate coming to his reading. He cleared his throat, and Rick glanced to Kate. Her arms crossed defensively across her chest, she stood firm. "I don't really know why I came by," he began. "I shouldn't've bothered you earlier, and...and I'm sorry." He scratched the back of his neck.

A real apology? Not just the "I'm sorry" from showing up at her door to begin with, but a real, honest to God apology! And not for his annoying personality (which he wouldn't consider apologizing for anyway), but for bothering her about something _else_ bothering her. She would rather be shot than let Castle see her break down over her father's sort of halfway unexpected passing. But he didn't know that. "Thanks, Castle, but you didn't have to waste your time here. I'm sure Alexis is anxious to have you home," she said somewhere between stiff and strained.

Castle knew she'd bite his head off if she knew he snooped around in her government files, but he felt horrible that the twin factor in the case bothered her. Maybe the Beckett twins had been murdered, and it was their killer she never caught. "Alexis won't mind. She's used to me walking in well past midnight." Still he didn't let that arrogant smile slip onto his features. "I guess I came to see if you're all right."

Kate sank back onto the couch and took the mug of tea to warm her hands. "I'm fine, Castle," she insisted, but he sat on the edge of her coffee table, firmly looking at her with an expression that said 'I don't believe you.'

"I don't believe you. You're a mediocre liar at best," he said quietly, still examining her with calculating but caring eyes. "I think something happened," he started again.

"Castle," she warned.

"I think it's someone close to you again, like what made you become a detective. I only want to listen," he tried, though honesty wasn't his strongest suit.

She glared at him. "So you can have a backstory for Nikki Heat? I'm sorry, Castle, but I don't want to see my whole life down in words making money for _you_." She sipped the tea.

"Kate." The same, caring tone like just before she'd left the precinct. "I just want to know what's got you so depressed."

Kate figured he wouldn't stop bugging her. She leaned forward and looked over at him, noting the lack of arrogance in his pose. She rubbed one hand down the left side of her face, forming the words she really didn't want to tell Rick. Well, maybe some catharsis would come of letting him in on her pain. "Okay, Castle, but this isn't literary material for you to use in your new series." He nodded. "I had two brothers – twins. Seven years ago they wanted to go on a motorcycle road trip, like in _Wild Hogs_. They got into an accident and neither survived. It was pretty shocking." She took a deep breath, not noticing when castle slid off the coffee table to sit on the couch. "Then two years later, my mom was supposed to meet Dad and me for dinner. She didn't show... Cops blamed it on gang violence; they couldn't think outside the box. Tore Dad apart. She's the reason I'm a detective." Castle slid closer, almost close enough to touch, but not quite. Another deep breath. She'd lost so many people. "And I just found out this morning that Dad lost his fight with cancer."

Plain and simple words to Castle, like the words in his books. But more powerful. Kate's personal life, just out in the open for him to hear. Rick put a hand on her knee in a risky move. "I'm so sorry, Kate," he said, trying to make eye contact.

She looked at his hand, neither pushing it nor him away. "Don't think apologizing for my sob stories will get you any Brownie points from me, Rick."

"Ah, but you called me by my first name and let me get away with using yours," he countered, letting the smallest hint of a smile appear on his lips. His hand was still on her knee.

She liked the feel of his touch, and lifted her head to meet his gaze. "I suppose you're right," she sighed. "Are you sure Alexis doesn't care?"

Rick shook his head. "She hasn't enforced my curfew since I released _Storm Fall_," he joked, though it was quite true.

The clock read eight. Had thirty minutes really gone by with Castle in her home? Remembering her manners, she asked, "Can I get you anything to drink? Tea or coffee?"

Castle shook his head. "Nah. I just wanted to see if you're doing all right. I mean, with the case and all... It must be tough. The twin thing... You needed to know I'm willing to listen to you without making a complete ass of myself. That just happens naturally."

She cracked a smile, and Castle grinned in triumph.

"I made you smile," he said.

Kate rolled her eyes. "See? Honesty works wonders if you aren't an idiot." She suddenly noticed how close he was to her. "Castle?" she asked, shifting slightly so his hand slipped off her knee. "Do you mind?"

"No, and you didn't seem to until you felt better, so I'm taking that as a good thing. My presence calms you down," he said with a smile.

"You're bordering on idiocy again, Castle," she warned, though grinning while she said it. "Go home and save your daughter and mother the worry." Kate didn't move, though. Neither did Castle.

He didn't want to move. "Actually, neither of them cares how late I get home. Maybe I want to stay out for a bit longer?" he directed the question/statement right at her, implying he wished to stay right where he sat.

She wrinkled her nose. "We have work tomorrow, Castle. As in we have to catch Jackson Mençois's killer. Like all good cops do. Comprendes?"

He stood, throwing his shoulders back. "Okay, I get it, Detective Beckett... You're just going to throw me out after I kindly come by to check up on you..." he gave a fake sob. "I understand I'm not wanted..."

Her forehead went into her palm, her head shaking. "Castle, how about this? After we close this case I'll let you have two hours of my time. Deal?"

Castle's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Yes, ma'am, it is a splendid deal. I'm gonna have fun with this..." he rubbed his hands together deviously, his spirit significantly lifted since first arriving at her door. He bowed dramatically. "Until tomorrow, dear lady, when we continue our quest to capture the man – or woman – who committed this crime against thy city and thyself," he said even more dramatically, bowing again. "I, King Richard Castle of...the ninth precinct, shall give thee time to rest and think...of me." He grinned as she suppressed a snort.

"Just go, Castle..." He left.

But she didn't deny she'd be thinking of him. Yes, honesty did work wonders when he wasn't an idiot...


	9. Chapter 9

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

_Chivalry Has Not Died, Though it Sure Smells Like It _

Two hours of Kate Beckett's time. Two _hours_ of Kate Beckett's time. Two hours of _Kate Beckett's_ time. Castle couldn't keep a slight grin off his face as he made his way down the stairs from the detective's apartment. All needed to be done to achieve the once in a lifetime offer was catch Jackson Mençois's killer. Easier said than done. Two hours of Kate Beckett's unadulterated time, all to himself. But only after putting Mençois's killer behind bars. So – how to solve this barricade of a case? Work through it like writing a book, naturally.

Twins. One married, one not – the ring the only way to discern the two. A wife who loathes the victim, and an unsupportive brother. An illogical obsession with King Arthur (who apparently inspired the attire chosen for death). Someone would need access to a museum of sorts or a skilled metalworker to lay hands on a replica of Excalibur...

Castle, back at his house an hour after the evanescent book signing, paced in front of his spider-plot touch-screen monitor, now with labels pertaining to the case spread across it. He glanced over at the clock. Not even midnight – plenty of time to think it out...

What if the friends did it? The friends who so conveniently forgot to mention the twin brother and the wife. No girlfriend, as far as they knew. Jackson, a perpetual boozer according to Erica, brought home too many drunk women and partied too hard. Was there a real reason behind it all that she didn't want to live with her husband and brother-in-law? Castle mused, his psychic author skills delving through the details.

Or maybe the sister-in-law – or wife, whatever... Her eye had twitched suspiciously when being questioned. Indication of guilt? Hiding something, maybe? He'd find out tomorrow, after getting back to his kingdom of the ninth precinct and bothering Esposito and Ryan. Can't bother Kate until the case is closed... Castle bounded to bed, intent on catching up his sleep as he needed all possibly available willpower to behave like a normal human being – as in, not Richard Castle – the next day.

----

Castle arrived bright and early (7:30, to be there before Kate), and came face to face with Captain Montgomery. "I thought I told you to wait for her to let you in, Mr. Castle."

Rick stared at Roy. "How do you know I didn't just finish a few chapters last night?"

"Your car is lo-jacked, Mr. Castle. Hazard of working under me. I know where you go." Roy Montgomery shook his head slightly and retreated to his office.

Rick shuddered at the thought of Montgomery knowing his every move, and sped to the break room to make a latte. Knowing Kate would arrive within the minute, he made her one too. Like clockwork, the door to the bullpen opened, revealing a tired-looking and red-scarf-bearing Detective Beckett.

"Kate! Vivaciously succulent scarlet, I see," Castle rang out, pressing the latte into her hands. "I think I worked it out. Actually I _know_ I worked it out, my psychic author skills 'n all..."

"Don't call me Kate," she said automatically, her eyes warming as her fingers did, curled around the mug of piping-hot liquid caffeine. Maybe chivalry hasn't died, after all, despite the distinct smell of it. "At least don't during work hours," she added on after taking a sip. "What do you mean you mean you worked it out?" She didn't even comment on his 'psychic author skills.'

"Who killed Jackson Mençois. Ooh, that would make _such_ a good book title... New series, maybe..." he trailed off, enjoying the hint of a smile beginning to creep onto Kate's features. This wasn't bothering her – this was refraining from all the things he _could _ have said to make her day worse. She needed a better day.

Kate groaned, but knew he was only trying to cheer her up. "Castle, we've been over this! We do _not_ speculate! We dig up the cold, _hard_ facts, and I – "

"Investigate things for yourself," Rick finished smartly, moving away from her after seeing a look in her eyes that said 'I'm going to throw this coffee at you.' "I happen to know that little tidbit, because you never _let_ me forget. But you have to admit – my speculation is very helpful."

She rolled her eyes at him, pushing past to sit at her desk. "Thanks for the coffee," she mumbled, logging into the server.

"Does..." Castle fell silent, debating whether he should bring the subject up.

Kate looked over at him. "Does what?"

"Does the offer still stand? I mean, why wouldn't it – you promised..."

"Don't bring that up here, Castle!" she hissed through her teeth, though nodded simultaneously. "It does still stand, but keep me waiting any longer on this theory of yours, and it'll go flying off the table." Castle pursed his lips, settling against the edge of her desk. She eyed him. "If you don't move your arse in five seconds...my gun _is_ loaded, Castle, and last night doesn't make you any less annoying."

He moved, quickly, and caught the Cheshire cat grins on Esposito and Ryan, who'd just come in with folders in their hands.

"So, what happened last night?" Ryan said, glancing between Kate and Castle.

"Nothing, Ryan. Gimme the file."

Esposito flopped into his chair. "Judging from your speed in answering and the tinge of red now rising to your cheeks, I'll bet something _did_ happen last night... Did it involve Castle? Kate, my friend, I thought you hated him... I guess you never really know somebody..."

Kate flashed them both her signature glare, flipped open the file, and stared hard at the contents.

Castle stole a rolling chair from a neighboring desk, sat in it, and rolled right next to Kate. "D'you still want me to tell you my 'theory'?" he asked, using finger quotes. She turned her head, resting her chin in a palm.

"Castle, I'm reading Esposito's report. Give me a _little_ space to work with, and I promise I won't shoot your nose off."

He rolled back. "Shoot," he said, unable to help the pun, "I was hoping to get my story in before the 'facts' did..."

Kate fought back another groan of frustration. "Castle. Move. Back. Now. Or. Die. Comprendes?"

"Yes, your majesty," he said with complete sincerity. Ryan bit back a snort of laughter, and Esposito simply stared at the exchange. "Hey, I am the king of the ninth precinct, and she's my partner. She is, therefore, the queen."

"Yeah, if you're married," Esposito quipped.

Kate Beckett stopped reading, looked up slowly, the fire of anger smoldering in her eyes. "Zip your mouths _shut_ if you want to live," she said dangerously. "We need to find who killed Mençois if you all want to go home tonight. Understand?"

The boys nodded, falling into silence while the detective finished reading the report.

"Ryan, what did the brother say when you talked to him?"

Kevin stood. "He barely flinched when we told him about his brother's body. Even described it and shoved a pic of the vic under his nose. Warren said he last saw Jackson around midnight on his way back from the rec centre with Erica."

"He didn't react to news of his brother's death?"

Esposito shrugged vaguely. "Well, he did lurch a little, like the news sort of surprised him, but not really."

"Maybe he's just a naturally stoic person," Castle interjected. "I know people like that..."

"Unfortunately you don't happen to be one of them," Kate muttered, looking back down at the file.

Castle refrained from shooting back a reply that would further annoy/anger her, remembering her promise to allow him her time. "So, back to what Warren said. Did he mention anything about his twin's thing for medieval legends?"

"King Rick Castle," Esposito mocked, "Warren didn't say a thing except to say how dumb the idea was of Arthur being real."

"Though they do look like Ioan Gruffudd in _King Arthur_, which was a movie based on speculation that Arthur _was_ real," Ryan rattled off, used to getting odd looks due to his habit of reciting odd and utterly useless trivia. "Sort of weird, you know, like karma. Or something."

The other three stared at him. "Did he have any _motive_ to kill his brother?" Kate asked, exasperated and really wanting another mug of latte.

Castle seemed to read her mind. He left abruptly, and returned a minute later with two more mugs of latte. He handed one to Kate. "For the queen of the ninth precinct," he stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm just going to throw this into the pond, but what about ordering a paternity test on Erica's kid?"

"Her _unborn_ kid?" Beckett said incredulously. "Castle, you can't just go get a warrant for a paternity test on speculative grounds!"

He tapped his nose. "Speculative, you say? Have you no faith in your king?"

Kate's forehead landed in her palm, her head shaking back and forth. "Nonetheless, you have no evidence."

"She answered too quickly when I asked who the father was and she was acting suspiciously," Castle reasoned.

"That's not enough – actually, it's nothing at all – to get a warrant for a paternity test." She sipped the latte, savoring the taste of espresso. She loved Castle for giving the precinct the machine, but that was it. Right...who was she kidding? She liked the guy. _Not professional,_ she told herself.

Castle studied Kate for the millionth time in his shadowing stint. Nikki Heat would definitely be based on Kate Beckett... "Fine, but don't tell me I didn't say one should be done," he said quickly. "Why don't you bring them both down here and question them in the nice compactness of an interrogation room?"

Ryan pricked his ears. "That wouldn't be a bad idea. Maybe get Merrell Cavendish and Christoph Belpino down here too to answer some other questions... The friends, you know."

"The ones who quite possibly are lying and did murder Jackson. But my money's still on the sister-in-law."

"Motive, people! What's the _motive_?" Kate almost yelled.

Castle leaned against her desk again, his temerity blocking out any fear of getting shot in either the nose or the arse. He grinned sweetly down at her. "Now do you want to hear my 'theory'?"


	10. Chapter 10

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

**Author's Note: I'm really sorry about the long update, and I'm still calling this the ninth precinct, even though the elevator doors say it's the twelfth. In an early episode I saw the outside of the building with "9****th**** Precinct" carved into it, so yeah... Enjoy chapter ten!**

_Your Wisdom Teeth Don't Make You Smarter, Castle_

"Fine, then. Give us your theory, _Castle_," Kate said, defeated but amused. She watched as the author grinned from ear to ear and faced her. She crossed her arms, a slight smile on her features. She didn't want to let him know she enjoyed indulging him. She shouldn't even think it, lest his psychic skills read her mind... She forced the thoughts out of her head and continued to stare at him.

Castle, encouraged by the detective's smile in her hard times, launched into his theory. Quite plainly, he pronounced, "I think Erica did it."

Kate suppressed a snort of laughter. "Pregnant Erica? She was retching at the time of death."

"Does she have anyone to confirm that? I think maybe Jackson is her baby's father, hence my request for a paternity test. Hey, that rhymed!" His eyes lit up as he fell silent, looking for the detectives' responses. They clearly expected more to his theory.

Ryan lifted a finger, drew in a breath, and pointed the finger at Castle. "You'd have to test the kid for antibodies that Jackson possessed and Warren and Erica don't," he said, slightly surprised when only Castle looked at him. "Jackson's school records show he applied to study abroad in Egypt, so he'd need some kind of vaccine against malaria and Ebola, etcetera."

Now Kate looked at Ryan. "Right... But there's still not enough _evidence_ to warrant a paternity test. Unless one of your brilliant minds – Castle, that was _not_ a compliment directed at _you_ – can come up with a way to _get_ said evidence, we can't ask for the test." She couldn't help a small grin when Castle's face fell slightly.

"Kate, _dear_, ye of little faith..."

She held up a hand. "Stop with the medieval talk and get me a latte if you want to keep your fingers."

"She threatens me..." Castle mocked again, wiggling jazz hands in Kate's face just to see her response. He leapt back when her hand went straight for her holster. "I shall get thee a latte, good lady, though you seem to be quite addicted to them," he said, walking backwards as she rose from her seat, her hand just itching to grab the sidearm. "Beckett, don't shoot me," he announced loudly, seeing Captain Montgomery standing just feet away from Kate's desk.

Montgomery smirked. "Detective, shooting your shadower wouldn't be very good for the NYPD's reputation, now would it? You can't go kill random, annoying authors whenever he – or she – gets on your nerves. However much you'd like to. Besides, I wouldn't want to have to fill out all the paperwork just for Castle."

Kate's hand dropped from her holster, a pink tinge rising to her cheeks.

"I'm not random!" Castle protested. "Okay, maybe _sometimes_, but not all the time!"

Her eyes plainly conveyed her disbelief in his statements.

The captain continued. "I want this case closed, people. I don't care if you work overtime, just get it done." He sighed and returned to his office.

"Whew," Castle breathed out. "That was a _close_ one. I could have _lost my fingers_!"

Esposito jerked his head in a motion telling Castle to retrieve the latte or suffer dire consequences. "Beckett, I think you and Mr. I'm-Bulletproof over there should talk to Warren for yourselves. You know, get your own version of the facts." He winked.

She gave him a sarcastic smile. "Thanks."

As Castle most likely heard Esposito from the break room, he returned with _two_ cups of coffee, conveniently poured into lidded paper cups with sleeves on them. "All right...road trip!"

"It's barely ten minutes away, Castle. That hardly qualifies as a 'road trip.'"

Castle pushed one cup into her hands and seized his jacket from the back of a chair. "Let's set off on this quest, then, shall we?"

Kate glared at him. "I said stop with the medieval talk."

He just grinned his signature grin and strutted out the bullpen doors, pressing the call button for the elevator. They stepped in, and when it closed Castle was glad to notice only he and Kate occupied the car. "You know it's practically habit for me to tease you, right?" he stated, unable to keep a smile off his face.

Kate sighed. "Castle, it may be habit, but it's still annoying. And not very welcome in a time like this."

Rick immediately understood, a fact lost on the detective. "I _am_ an excellent listener, you know... But more exemplary at talking..."

She turned to face him, timing her words. "For a bestselling author who still has his wisdom teeth, they sure don't make you much smarter." The doors slid open, and Kate left the car with a genuine smile on her lips.

----

With a warning of "Don't make me call you 'kitten' in there," Kate managed to get through the first five minutes of talking with Warren without Castle interrupting. She knew the effect of her caveat wore down quickly, and by the time she'd reached the part where she brought out the 'did you kill your brother' questions, Castle spoke.

"Why didn't you support Jackson's theory of King Arthur being real?" Castle asked Warren, studying the brother's facial expressions and reactions. He seemed genuinely sad that his brother currently lay in the morgue.

"Because it was just a stupid idea," Warren answered. "His majors didn't hold any promise for lifetime careers, especially in mother England. I already said I've told all this to the officers who were here before."

Before Kate got a chance to say it, Castle did. "She likes investigating things for herself."

Warren glanced between the two.

"Mr. Mençois, the last you saw of your brother was at midnight, correct?" Kate asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'd walked Erica back from the rec centre and he sort of stumbled past us with his keycard in hand. Like he had the idea to work out while intoxicated."

Castle, struck with another apparently brilliant idea, blurted out, "Has your wife been working out often? Like possibly overexerting herself?"

Warren's face registered surprise. "Actually, yes. And when I asked her if she wanted to move into the flat now that Jackson's gone, she said she didn't want to leave the easy access to the honors hall. Is this important?"

"Every bit is important in finding Jackson's killer," Kate assured him.

Quickly changing the course of the conversation, Castle said, "Were you aware of your wife's pregnancy?"

Warren froze. "What?" he breathed.

Castle stared at the Mençois, knowing that at least one part of his theory had to be right.


	11. Chapter 11

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

**Author's Note: In case of confusion, I'm focusing more on the Kate/Rick relationship development than on the actual case they're working on. Enjoy chapter 11!**

_Interrupt My Case-Closed Victory Dance and I'll Shoot You_

Warren's hands fell limply at his sides. "Erica? Pregnant?" he huffed. "That's impossible. We haven't been...intimate for...for months. Since the semester started we haven't gotten any time together. Focus on school, you know?" Warren sighed. "I don't know why she's pregnant. Is there a possibility she – or you – are mistaken?"

Kate shook her head, wondering why Warren wasn't more upset. "Your wife showed us a sonogram, Mr. Mençois. She's definitely with child."

"Could your wife have been mistaking Jackson as you?" Castle asked bluntly, avoiding a death glare from Kate as he watched the Mençois.

Warren stared at Castle. "Maybe, but I wear the wedding ring. Erica wouldn't do that to me, not on purpose."

_On purpose?_ Castle thought. But who killed Jackson? The author made a noncommittal noise, one he'd spent many evenings perfecting to just the right tone capable of annoying Kate. It succeeded. "Did your brother have enemies?"

The brother snorted, and Kate wrenched her false-glare from Castle to stare at the Mençois. "Every professor of every class he took hated him and his theories."

"Theories that just need to be tested, or proved," Castle interrupted, and Kate resisted pulling her gun on him. "Warren, your brother – your _twin_ – was found _dead_ in Central Park wearing a full suit of armor, skewed on _Excalibur_. Your wife is pregnant, most likely with _another man's – _i.e. your _brother's_ – child, and you haven't so much as raised your voice. Tell me, what do you find odd about this _little_ revelation?"

Kate backed down, observing her partner and Warren. She had a gut feeling that Castle was on to something, and though she would certainly love to, she didn't steal his thunder.

"Are you accusing _me_ of murder? _I'm_ the victim here!"

Castle did his over-dramatic sigh. "Like I've never heard that one before," he commented, watching Warren's expression. "No, no, you're too smart to actually _kill_ your brother..." Kate, before Rick said any more, poked one of his ribs and used her eyes to tell him to shut up. Usually it didn't work, but she knew he'd comply. Castle fell silent.

Warren crossed his arms, the lines on his forehead and the creases at the corners of his eyes indicating an attempt of sadness. Rick wasn't convinced.

"Mr. Mençois, you need to come to the precinct for questioning," Kate said in Rick's silence. He looked as though he'd throw a fit, but nodded once.

----

Back at the building, Ryan and Esposito had Belpino and Cavendish in interrogation rooms, making little headway. Rick followed Kate into the room with Warren Mençois, and sat next to his favorite detective and muse.

"Let's revisit everything," Kate said with a false smile on her face. "Where were you at one a.m. Thursday morning?'"

Warren glowered. "I was just leaving Erica's honors dorm to go home."

"How did you get to your flat?" Castle said suddenly, just as Kate opened her mouth to ask the exact same question.

Warren paused. "I walked." He shifted in his seat.

Castle again made his annoying, noncommittal noise, but Kate either didn't care or didn't notice. Her eyes were fixed on Warren, and Rick recognized the expression of realization as it crossed Kate's face.

A knock sounded on the one-way mirror, and without another word, Kate and Rick filed out of interrogation.

Ryan looked ready to burst. "He paid Belpino to kill Jackson," he announced, rocking on the balls of his feet. "He knew his wife was cheating."

Esposito cut in. "And Castle's idea for the paternity test would've paid off, if Detective Beckett had allowed it."

Kate pursed her lips at him. "Who is the father?" Kate asked, hands on her hips.

Esposito grinned like a Cheshire cat. "I dare you to guess. Have a little fun."

Rick rubbed his hands together with excitement. "I think Katie should answer this one, considering I guessed last time. And got it right," he said, expecting to get punched for calling her Katie.

The hit didn't come. "It was Belpino, wasn't it?"

Ryan nodded. "Yeah. How did you know that? Castle went through a whole logical explanation thing with his, but you just said five little words, as opposed to Castle's ninety three."

Esposito stared at him. "You remember how many words it took Castle to explain the college thing? You weirdo..."

Kate shrugged. "Gut instinct, I guess. Plus, earlier you said you didn't like him. Too shady, as I seem to remember your description." _I'm taking after Castle_, she thought. _After Rick. Thinking with my gut is a Rick thing. But he thinks with his heart, too..._

"I thought you liked cold, hard facts. You know, served stiff on a platter?" Castle said with a smile on his face. After watching her pretty much nonexistent reaction, his grin faded. "But gut instincts are just as reliable. Totally."

Esposito snorted at him. "We got confession on tape and paper. Our work is done." He snagged his jacket from the back of the chair and saluted as he left.

"I'm gonna go grab some food," Ryan said in a serious voice. "See you in the morning." He too left.

"It's over," Kate said. "Closed. Nothing to distract me anymore, Rick."

Castle knitted his eyebrows together, worried about her and surprised at himself about the worry. "Hey, you called me Rick. You never call me Rick. It's always Castle, or Kitten, if you really want to reciprocate. And that I-don't-care-sound I was making all day, I perfected just for you. Just to annoy you, and now you call me Rick. Are you confused yet? Because I could continue into the whole thing about me being King of the Ninth Precinct again, with you as the queen, and all that wonderful stuff."

Kate stared at him. "Believe it or not, this is my victory dance. Interrupt it and I'll shoot you."

Rick just smiled that smile she loved – and she'd not let him figure _that_ one out. "I believe we had a deal. Sealed over tea and a coffee table. I seem to remember you promising to give me two hours of your time when the case closed."

She sighed. "I did, didn't I."

Castle nodded emphatically, and glanced at his watch. "And, once I convince my mother there is a high profile event happening in the Waldorf on the other side of New York, and tell Alexis she absolutely must go on a date tonight with Owen, that two hours starts when we get to my apartment."

Kate opened her mouth to protest, but the irrational part of her mind in addition to her heart kept her from speaking.

"Excellent." He gestured to the door, and suddenly produced her jacket out of thin air, and helped her into it. "Shall we?"


	12. Chapter 12

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

**Author's Note: To make up for the extremeness of "Addicted," which if you haven't read I suggest you do (tissues needed), this chapter will contain discreet amounts of fluff.**

_Napa Valley Merlot, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Collecting Penguins_

Kate didn't and would never regret offering Rick two hours of her time. For some reason the notion existed that she needed the company, as now she had no family, no boyfriend, and an empty apartment. As she sat tin the front seat of the government-issue sedan Rick had convinced Montgomery to let them (okay, him) borrow, Kate mulled over the past two days' events. Her father's sudden passing; letting the cancer win. She found it hard to process the fact she had no relatives left; no mother or father to introduce Rick to, no brothers to make sure if Rick was an appropriate – wait, what the hell was she thinking? Ri – no, Castle – was a _professional_ partner!

She stole a glance at him over the center console, letting a small smile creep onto her features. "Castle?" she asked suddenly, a curious thought entering her mind.

He turned to look at her, glancing away from the road for a moment. "Yes, Queen Kate?"

She held back a snort of laughter. "Why're you doing this?"

Castle smiled. "Because you offered. I couldn't turn down such a juicy opportunity, now could I? Especially when it's two hours with my favorite detective. Who knows what will happen? Behind a closed door..."

"And your mother will be gone. So will Alexis, right?"

"That makes it all the more devilishly fun, my dear." He pulled into a turn lane, stealing a glance at his partner. A thought struck him. "How do you feel about alcohol?"

She shrugged. "It depends on the kind."

"Wine. Specifically a succulent Napa Valley Merlot, aged to perfection and now hiding in a cupboard that my mother would never look in."

Her lip quirked upwards. "And which cabinet might that be?"

"I'm not telling! For all I know you could be in cahoots with my mother!"

She paused. "Cahoots?"

The light changed to green and Castle shot the sedan onto the side street. "Yes, Katie, cahoots. But I doubt it. You're too sensible to be fraternizing with my _mother_." He wanted to get her mind off her family for a change, and onto something less stressful. Less stressful with dealing with a now-gone father and the job of looking at dead people to catch murderers. "I wonder, still, for you have not answered my inquiry. How do you feel about Napa Valley Merlot?"

Her heart had given a little stir when he called her 'Katie,' and she found Rick's company calming. A de-stressor, if you will. "You know, merlot is sort of a favorite of mine. How did you know that?"

"I didn't. I just happen to have a perfect bottle of it in my cupboard." And it hadn't appeared in her file. Coincidences be damned.

She studied him. "You're not lying," she said.

"Would you tell if I was?"

Kate nodded. "I know when you're lying. A few months of working with you and _viola!_ You're not that hard to decode."

He hmphed. "And I was trying so hard to be un-decodable." The sedan came to a stop, parked right outside the entrance to Castle's luxurious apartment. "Shall we go up? I'm excited to start those two hours."

"Oh dear."

"What?"

Beckett sighed. "Nothing but two hours of Richard Castle. How depressing."

"I'm shocked! Quite the contrary, my dear. I can be exuberantly exciting, believe it or not."

"Not." Kate followed Castle through the wide door, into a vestibule that could've passed for the entrance to the Vatican. Her eyes widened at the sight.

Rick studied Kate's amazed features. "This way," he said softly, blinking as she jumped at the sound of his quiet, caring voice. His hand hovered at the small of her back, something he realized was intimate. But Kate didn't notice or didn't mind. Or she liked it. He guided her into the elevator, turning his key for the penthouse. "Would you care for a glass of wine, Queen Kate?"

She let a smile touch her lips. "Sure. But I'm not addressing you as royalty no matter how hard you try."

"Understood, my Lady."

_He's such a gentleman – an annoying, sweet, polite, wonderful gentleman..._ Kate mused to herself. It was all she could do to not let her mind wander to the possibilities that waited behind closed doors. No Martha, no Alexis. An entire penthouse apartment to Kate Beckett and Richard Castle. What would – what _could_ – happen?

Rick produced the bottle of merlot out of thin air (it seemed, but she had her back turned for approximately three and a half seconds) and poured a good amount into a wineglass on the kitchen island. He pushed one over to Kate, who stood opposite him; the island between.

Kate took a sip, and her mind slipped into the realm of unfocused thoughts. Her eyes must have glazed over because Castle jolted her out of it when he appeared right beside her, hand on her arm. "Not all who wander are lost," he stated as if it were the plainest thing in the world. "And I get the feeling that you're just wandering. You're not lost, though you think you are."

"When did you become a mind-reader?" Kate asked in a small, uncharacteristic voice. "I read Tolkien too."

One of Rick's eyebrows went up. "Me? A mind-reader? If I were a mind-reader all of Patterson's books would be making _me_ money." He sipped some of the merlot. "Tolkien was a smart dude. But I really doubt eight and nine year olds could keep up with _Lord of the Rings_."

She nodded in half-assed agreement. "So what are we going to do for two hours?"

"Hmm... Your choice among Truth or Dare, a modified version of Twenty Questions, or strip chess."

Kate nearly choked on her wine. "How about Twenty Q, and then Truth or Dare? There's no way in _hell_ I'm playing strip chess with _you_."

He grinned. "You say that like you'd play it with someone else."

Ignoring the statement and unasked question, she swirled the rich wine in her glass. "Start with the Twenty Q."

"The armchair and sofa are decidedly more comfortable than the kitchen," Rick said pointedly. Kate settled into the armchair, feet tucked under her body and wine in hand. Castle fell onto the couch. "What would you wish for if you could have anything in the world?"

She stared at him. He was going to make this really, really emotional and difficult for her. She pulled in a deep breath. "My family back."

He nodded, as if he knew the answer to begin with. He knew what he was doing. "What would you tell them?"

"How much I love them." She tried snapping it at him, but it fell and hit the floor hard.

Castle leaned forward, placing his glass on the coffee table between them. "But if you had your family back...you became a detective because of your mother's death. We never would've met had your family lived."

It was her turn to nod at him. "Yeah. But I still would've been in love with your books; your writing, and wishing I _could_ meet you." Somehow she felt comfortable saying that in his presence. Months of working together made her in tune with him, and feel like she could be herself. Even if she felt vulnerable and exposed.

"Is there a difference between loving my work and loving me?" He'd thrown the question right at her, breaking the ice floe with a metaphorical backhoe.

Kate Beckett stared at him with wide eyes. "That's one question that's way too personal, Castle." But inside she was screaming. _There's no difference! _

Castle dropped his gaze to the floor. "If you had answered that question, would you have been truthful?"

She shook her head ever so slightly, and just because he now knew she'd have lied, he knew the truth. Her answer would've been no. "That's four questions. Sixteen to go."

"Is it really that miserable? Shall I lighten the mood?"

"Please do." She swallowed the last pool of wine in her glass and set it on the table.

"All right then. What's your favorite animal? I already know the color and holiday, so animal is next on the list."

Kate let a smile cross her features. "Penguins."

Castle did a double take. "Pen...penguins?"

She grinned at him. "You never would've guessed that one, huh?"

He shook his head vehemently. "Not in a million – well, maybe_ three_ million – years."

"I collect them." She relaxed back into the armchair, closing her eyes for a moment.

Castle stared at her, transfixed on her beauty and the fact that she was alone, with him, in his apartment. What are the odds? "So let me get this straight: you like Napa Valley Merlot, J.R.R. Tolkien, and collecting penguins?"

Her eyes still closed, she nodded against the leather seat back. "Am I strange or what?"

"Or what." He stood and rounded the table, standing over her, wine and twenty questions forgotten. She blinked several times, completely unperturbed that Richard Castle was standing over her, looking down. "Truth or dare?"

She locked his gaze. "Dare."

He'd been hoping for that one. "Close your eyes." She complied, letting her eyelids flutter shut. Richard Castle put one hand on the back of the chair for leverage, and leaned down. He studied her smooth features for a moment, before lightly pressing his lips against hers. He brought his other hand to her cheek, kissing her a second and third time before pulling slightly back, amazed to see her eyes still closed and her cheeks slightly flushed. "You can open them now," he commented.

Not even an hour into their scheduled two, and he'd already kissed her three times.

Kate looked right up at him, her body language content and her eyes seemingly asking for more.

She reached up with both hands, and pulled his head back down. "That wasn't much of a dare," she whispered, and closed the remaining inch between them with a kiss.


	13. Chapter 13

**A Castle for a King by AndromedaMarine**

**Author's Note: Last chapter. I had fun writing this whole story! Thanks to all the reviewers.**

_There's No Point in Threatening You Because of Last Night_

Back late from hunting for parties in Waldorf Hotels across the city, Martha tip-toed through the den, heading for her secret stash of the best liquor in Manhattan. In the darkened apartment she passed the cloister with the couch, coffee table and armchairs, in a beeline for the reproduction of Picasso's _The Scream_. She glanced down at the couch, stopping in her tracks when she saw Detective Beckett halfway on top of Castle, his shirt tight in her grip. For a moment Martha stood frozen stiff, afraid that they were awake. Looking more closely at her son and his obvious new girlfriend, she saw that their chests rose up and down slowly and evenly, indicating deep sleep.

Castle's mother applauded Beckett for managing to get her son to sleep at a decent hour (if not a decent position), as this night was the first in several weeks she'd known her author-child to fall all the way to the realm of REM, regardless of the motionless figure of Kate on top of him. Martha thought it irresponsible for them not to have scrounged up a blanket before zonking out with each other, so she freed herself from paralysis and snatched the comforter off the back of the microsuede couch and tossed it over them, letting out a breath of relief when they didn't stir.

She managed to pry back the replicated painting with stealth, unlocking the safe she'd been able to keep hidden from Rick as well as hooked up to the refrigeration system. Her wine only tasted good chilled. With the bottle in one hand and the enlarged champagne flute in the other, she made it halfway up the stairs before hearing the dulled scrapings of a key in the front door's lock, and then remembered Alexis was back from her rather lengthy date with Owen.

Alexis entered the apartment with a glowing smile on her face, though in the dim light Martha wasn't sure if her granddaughter had gotten into any hinky business while away from parental and grandparental hovering. She whispered to Alexis, "Hon, don't turn on the lights."

"Grandma?" Alexis's voice equaled her grandmother's quietness.

"We were shooed out of the house so they could have alone time," Martha explained as Alexis joined her on the staircase. "How'd your date go?"

"You sound like Dad. It went fine."

"Any hinky business?" Martha didn't pull any punches.

Alexis blushed. "We kissed, if you call that 'hinky business.'" They disappeared at the top of the staircase and went to their respective bedrooms, after saying goodnight.

----

Morning came too soon for Beckett. She opened her eyes only to shut them once more, biting back a groan at how badly her back hurt. And what was that squishy thing beneath her? _Oh._ _Right. It's Rick,_ she thought a few times over, before it hit her like a ton of cinder blocks. _It's CASTLE! I'm lying on TOP of CASTLE!_ Kate froze, trying to remember how she got on top of Rick to begin with, and then the memories came flooding back. Truth or Dare. What a silly, positively _stupid_ idea. Though... She looked up at Rick's face, and seeing him contentedly still asleep, with his mouth hanging slightly open, Kate couldn't help but smile.

Yet she couldn't move without waking him up, and that would be a scene to behold. She couldn't fall back asleep, not with the contours of the couch disagreeing with her lower spine, even though Rick's squishiness was decidedly comfortable.

Kate opted to poke his kidney as her wake-up method, and it took a few times before his eyes shot open and he grunted. "You know, that actually hurts when you do it several times over. You could have just kissed me awake."

"You dream too much, Rick," she replied. "Can you let me get off you? My back hurts from sleeping this way."

They shifted so the pressure came off of Kate's spinal column, and she raked her fingers through the messy strands on her head. "Why is it so bright?"

"It's morning," Castle replied in his snarky tone. "So much for two hours."

Kate froze. "Crap."

"Oh, don't tell me you _regret_ our little fiasco last night?" Castle yawned and stretched his arms out, planted a kiss on her cheek and stood to go to the kitchen. Kate joined him a moment later, after taking a second to wonder how the blanket had gotten on top of them both during the night. She couldn't remember placing it there.

"I don't regret anything. I just meant 'crap, I have to work today.' That and my goldfish needs to be fed." She smiled gratefully when Castle put a large mug full of latte in front of her.

"You don't have a goldfish," Castle said. "Do you?"

She scowled at him. "You could figure out my favorite color in a second and Mençois's major in a minute, but you don't believe I have a goldfish? You're impossible." She sipped the coffee, her nose picking up the distinct scent of cooking sausage. She looked up at her favorite author and saw him dallying around the stove, shaking a bottle of spices over the sizzling pan. "I really do have a goldfish."

"But I'm sure your goldfish can survive another few hours without going belly-up. It's not like it expects food every twenty-four hours on the dot."

Kate had to agree. "I suppose there's no point in threatening you because of last night, then, huh?"

Rick forked three sausages and a spoonful of scrambled eggs onto a plate and handed it to Kate. "No, there isn't any point in threatening me at all ever again, especially because of last night." His eyes twinkled in the sunlight pouring through the window. "But if you find you need to do something to keep me from getting shot during work, I'd suggest a kiss or more. You know how I don't respond to threats." He grinned at her.

All she could do was half-smile, half-glare at him, knowing that because of last night, she'd only be able to threaten him with the possibility of very lonely nights and the absence of making out daily.

A few moments later both Martha and Alexis made an appearance, the latter announcing, "Hi Detective Beckett," without surprise and Martha patting Kate's shoulder while saying, "I'm sorry he isn't much of a mattress, dear, but thanks for staying."

Kate couldn't help but nearly choke on her sausage in laughter, while Rick let out a snort and pulled his daughter to him in a hug.

Alexis couldn't help but whisper to her dad, "Is there a possibility of Kate being my next step-mom?"

Rick turned red, responding, "We're already king and queen of the Ninth Precinct!"


End file.
